


Reflections

by Alayne_StoneColdFox



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alayne_StoneColdFox/pseuds/Alayne_StoneColdFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alayne tries on her new wedding gown in her fathers chambers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/gifts).



“I am glad we went with the blue. Harry might be cross about it, though. He seemed quite keen on the idea of a red and white dress for me, the Hardyng colours, but this is much prettier, don't you think?” Sansa turned over her shoulder towards me, pulling her gaze away from the floor length mirror.

I regarded her from across the room, as she swished the heavy velvet around her legs so that he could see the fine silk of her stockings underneath. She seemed caught up in her own reflection, watching how the fabric moved, but I still could never quite tell if she did these things to me on purpose.

“It is a fine dress, sweetling” I gave her a smile “And what kind of father would I be if I sent you down to take your vows in red and white check? A sin worthy of all seven hells, I'm sure” 

That made her smile, turning back to the mirror, thoughts of her impending marriage day no doubt running through her head “But I would hope he still likes it, though..”

The comment irked me, more than I know it should.

I saw no reason why all of Harry's wishes regarding something as idle as dress fabric and wedding décor should be taken into consideration, and not just because of his appalling taste. He was getting a bride. A Stark girl. He was getting her. I felt no desire to give him more.

“He will like it, no doubt in my mind about that. I would go so far to say that every man in the sept will wish it was them taking you as their bride, instead of our lucky Ser Harold”

Sansa's smiled turned coy “Every man?” she echoed, and there was a playfulness in her voice. 

I wandered over to stand behind her, to tug at the sleeve of the gown, adjusting it on her shoulder, smoothing over the lush blue velvet and the silver embroidery. I didn't look up, keeping my eyes fixed on the nape of her neck, though I could sense her watching me through the mirror, as my hand settled on the indent of her waist, pulled tight by her corset.

“Every man” I repeated.

She leant back into me and my grip hardened. I almost clawed at her, and how could I not? She was growing more and more tempting these days. She'd learnt to add a touch of mischief to her sweet smile. The meekness instilled in her in Kings Landing was shedding away, as she did and spoke more boldly. Her innocence was still there, not completely taken from her yet, but it was mixing with something darker, and oh how much more inviting it made her. This girl was growing into something even more to my liking.

She could have just had her look. In truth, that was all I had needed at the start. The red hair, the name, and the value that came with her.

It would have been all so much easier if that was all she was. It would have made passing her over to Harry easier. 

She was the one to arch her back, to push her rear against me, just a fraction. It was a small movement, but small movements should never be underestimated, especially with her.

We both gazed forward to the mirror, wordlessly staring at this queer reflection of ourselves. A young girl and an old Lord. A father and a daughter. A liar and a liar.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this kicking around in my Petyr-Sansa-file-of-unfinished-flifth folder for months, with the idea that I might one day expand on it, but then I thought 'No, this is just fine as a short drabble. Not everything needs to end with a sex scene, just censor yourself this one time, woman'.
> 
> I actually urged the lovely writer Marquise to write about Petyr buying Sansa a dress based on a Tumblr prompt, because I like the idea so much, and knew she would do something wonderful with it, where I had only come up with this so far. Then I thought, well, no harm in posting it anyway. Both takes on the same idea.
> 
> I mean really I could bang on about dresses and shopping sprees and clothing porn for ten pages of every fic, but I know that would just bore everyone else to tears.


End file.
